Tuesday, October 25, 2011

What to Inspect When You're Expecting: Letting Nature Take Its Coarse

Further to yesterday's post, it turns out people have vociferous and disparate feelings when it comes to human reproduction. In particular, it seems that some people really do believe that not having babies will somehow save the Earth. Well, to them I pose the following question:

"Without more people, who will staff the Starbucks?!?"

Think about it. Do you think a moose or a kangaroo or even a monkey could figure out how to make a Venti White Chocolate Mocha? I doubt it. (Well maybe the monkey could, but not without a human in a green apron to teach him, and then he'd still be unable to make correct change.) And if there are no people left to make Venti White Chocolate Mochas, then who will make coffee for the animals? See, they need us--and we need them, so that they can fulfill their divine purpose by dying and becoming oil. It's called "symbiosis." Or "symbiolosis." Or "sciatica" or something. I don't know, look it up.

And I'm not even going to get into the fate of the iPhone in a people-free world. Won't somebody please think of the iPhones?!?

Anyway, one person who is untroubled by the moral implications of procreation is famed bicycle cycling sprinter and current World Champion Mark "The Man Missile" Cavendish, who recently issued forth the following "Tweet" concerning the issue of his issue:

I'm assuming the "beyond doubt" part means he was withholding the "Tweet" pending the results of the DNA test. Yes, paternity can sometimes come down to what you might euphemistically call a "photo finish" if there are a lot of other "sprinters" involved, so it's always good to make sure the "win" really belongs to you and not one of your competitors. Such is the chaos inherent in the "bunch sprint" of life.

Needless to say, I'm very happy for them both, and since one day that mini-"Man Missile" or petite Peta (as the case may be) is going to ask his or her parents where he or she came from, I've prepared an explanation in a child-friendly storybook format so that they can let the little Man or Peta (not to be confused with mani-pedi) figure it out for him- or herself.

How Pro Cycling Babies Are Made

One day, Daddy, who was an awesome sprinter, saw something that he liked very, very much:

Actually, he saw two things that he liked very much, and both of them were attached to Mommy:

(So ample is Peta's bosom that it provides plenty of room for censorship by means of the "recumbabe," who is in turn censored by the time-traveling t-shirt-wearing retro-Fred from the planet Tridork Bret.)

Daddy was sponsored by a mobile phone company at the time, so he paid somebody at the company to give him Mommy's number, even though it was a secret:

("I'm thumbing my nipple right now, does that turn you on?")

Mommy wasn't impressed, but Daddy was persistent:

("I have something this big to give you!")

Mommy was amazed by the size of Daddy's, uh, palmarès, and so they did something with a dirty name that mommies and daddies do when they love each other very much:

Twelve minutes later, Daddy "popped his top""

Daddy's bottle was full of millions of tiny "bubbles," which all raced as fast as they could to make friends with Mommy's inside parts. Daddy's "bubbles" were very, very fast, but one "bubble" was even faster than the rest:

(The winning sperm benefitted from many off-season hours in the wind tunnel.)

Soon, something was growing inside of Mommy:

And then, nine moths later, a stork carrying a precious bundle came:

Which really has nothing whatsoever to do with the story, except that it happened around the time you came out of Mommy's vagina:

It hurt Mommy a lot, which is why she's squeezing Daddy's "pants yabbies."

Now, Mommy and Daddy are very tired all the time, and that's why they smell like whiskey:

A lot of deer get hit by cars west of Crown Point on U.S. 231. There are too many cars to have the deer crossing here. The deer crossing sign needs to be moved to a road with less traffic.

- Tim Abbott, Crown Point

Wow.

See? We don't need to stop reproducing in order to save the environment. All we need is better signage for the animals. Remember all that unpleasantness with the BP spill in the Gulf of Mexico? Well, we could have been spared all those images of oil-slathered wildlife if only BP had posted a bunch of these all over the beach:

Sure, you'd have to tweak it a bit since I don't think there were too many oil-coated baboons and kangaroos paddling around out there, but you get the point. With adequate signage, all the animals would have simply gone to the pool instead until the wonderful people at BP had a chance to fix the leak. This is yet another argument in favor of human reproduction. Without us, who the hell is going to put up signs? Those stupid animals will have no idea where to go. They'd probably just stand around licking themselves.

oh! i so miss john cassidy. i hope he snaps at being poked with a stick.

also- i think its fine to have kids as long as you don have too many and you teach em how to be good humans. non of this 18 kid Dugger bullshit. every couple having two kids will still result in a negative birthrate.

Somebody told me that you could bid on ebay on a saddle which has a lingering smell of ballsweat mixed with DZ Nuts chamois creme, and that if you are the high bidder, the seller might even throw in most of a high-zoot time trial bike at no extra cost!

What a heartwarming story. Reminds me of Elmo and Katy Perry. And it's nice that the man with the walnut glove box agreed to be a godfather. I hope they give their child a bamboo bike so the pandas won't starve, because you're right -- we have to think of the animals.

speaking of licking yourself, if you could would you blow yourself? and if so would you spit, swallow or expel into a kleenex? I hope this isn't too off topic. By the way, what's this blog about again?

Today's humans create tons and tons of trash that will never biodegrade - they, and their snot-face offspring - will forever pollute the natural beauty of this planet. More crotch fruit means more shopping malls, more fishing, more people spoiling natural, unspoiled habitat. I value clean water, trees, no pollution. I don't value screaming toddlers, landfills full of disposable diapers taking thousands of years to break down, etc. No one likes the product of some guy's spooge and the creature that slithered from mommy's crotch, other than mommy and daddy - no one likes your damn kids!

And all of the synthetic hormones (birth control pills) and prescription drugs humans pump into themselves are discharged into drinking water. "I'll have an ice water with lemon and progesterone, please." These pollutants are not benign, they are having profound changes on ecosystems. More people = more pollution and less resources per capita. Less resources = more scarcity and more war. Humans are a parasitic virus - the only species on this planet that habitually destroys its environment (host). Humans have no respect for nature, and no respect for each other. Less people would be the best thing to ever happen in the world. Just makes me want to punch a child in the face. There is nothing more satisfying.

I don't mean to hate on the manx missle, but I do remember seeing a documentary way back when he was rising up through the ranks and he had his hometown girlfriend. And he was all, "yeah she stuck with me when I sucked, etc" and now he's the green jersey winner/campeon del mundo etc with a model gf/babies mama.

Nice to upgrade, cause it's not like Mr. Banana got a lot better looking, he's still just a bike dork.

Posted 7/27/2011 10:29 amI don't give a flying fuck about your children. I don't care who they are, where they are, how old they are, or what they are doing. Want me to see pictures of your kids or grandkids? Sure, but hold on while I turn on the paper shredder.

What's that? You're selling cookies/candy/condoms/raffles/ornaments/butt-plugs/prizes/trinkets so little Johnny and Sarah Jane can waste an afternoon at Disneyland? Sure I'll take some candy -- so long as I can smash it in your motherfucking face and retrieve it from your crusty rectum. This is an office where I do important work -- not a goddamn bazaar to peddle the wares of your snotnosed offspring.

I don't care how smart you think your kids are. No, your children aren't geniuses. You'll be lucky if your brats move out of your hovel at age 30 -- after they've climbed the ladder to success making change at a gas station.

You love your children? Good -- tell it to someone who gives a shit.

Keep your motherfucking brats out of movie theaters and restaurants. Seriously, no one wants the living incarnation of your seed disturbing our shows and meals, spreading viruses and bacteria with every goddamn thing they touch. You need a night out? Fine -- hire someone else's fucking brat to watch yours, you cheap piece of filth.

No, I don't want to pay more in taxes to send your pathetic pieces of dopeshit to school. Oh, you want "more resources"? Better "facilities"? Better student-teacher "ratios"? Well la-de-fucking-da: why don't you FUCKING PAY FOR IT. If you're not catching my drift, let me make it clear: I don't want to throw my money away educating your third-rate douchebag of a kid so he or she can wash my car on the weekend. You gave birth to it, you pay for it.

Dammit, I knew one of you netizens would bust my troll. I didn't know that gem had been floating around the web for 7 years already. Now excuse me while I change my daughter's leaky diarrhea-filled diaper and wash a load of her spit-up encrusted laundry.

Seriously, maybe most of us can't read, but we're not that dumb. The DOT is fully aware our rampant illiteracy and put a picture of a deer on the sign so we know where we're supposed to cross. I, for one, would really appreciate the crossings moved to safer locations.

This got lost amidst all the "progeny--man or myth" hullaballoo, but I must comment:

Hey Anonymous 12:52-- you thought those triathletes doing the Xterra MTB section had bike handling skills? REALLY? Look again-- going down gravelly non-steep double-track they all looked terrified, really slow, and many many went down. NO ONE rode up anything remotely steep and the tiniest bit technical (read non-pavement) at all. And the guy changing the flat? He looked confused to me-- he was squeezing the tire like he was checking out peaches or something. Just my opinion...

Snobby is it myth or reality that professional cyclists are limp dicked? We all know most of them are cocky enough to make up for it, but maybe you should devote a segment of your blog to it? Possibly a listener vote to help you sweep the bloggies?

Well as it is a sporting ride with the bikes gone wild would be fun. No we are not the same or from the same mother. I look to ride free and not hate.Who on this blog has ever ridden balls out in a utilikilt drinking a martini?

To who it may concernI was searching for a new axe and came across this website. Kind of goofy shit you guys are up to. i know some people sometimes get busted for drugs and porn sometimes.I guess i would think about what your saying as the bible says. Some of that stuff will get you into trouble and then you have your problems the law and all the other shit. I am not dog the bounty hunter but am just giving a friendly advice to some of you.He who may be judged upon the witness of his brethren may redeem himself in christ the lord.

Believe it or not I'm vegan so there's no chance I'm eating fish 'n chips. Plus I'm madly in love w/ a man that I met on the side of the highway; I had a flat& no air pump. He came through for me in more ways than one. He has a Rhino cock & I would not give him up for all the bikes in China.

"This is an office where I do important work". Somehow, I doubt that, your job will likely be replaced by some Java code on a website soon. But that's ok, I'll just tell my kids not to stare at the lonely old man giving BJs to hobos.

"Slaying the Badger" has several photos of Greg Lemond racing on a Huffy. Which was a surprise, but, in retrospect, my old Huffy BMX-styled bike with coaster brake took all the abuse a six year old kid could throw at it with aplomb.

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About Me

While I love cycling and embrace it in all its forms, I'm also extremely critical. So I present to you my venting for your amusement and betterment. No offense meant to the critiqued. Always keep riding!